


Your Secrets

by MiriamKenneath



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Captivity, F/F, Fingerfucking, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lekku as Erogenous Zones (Star Wars), Non-Consensual Drug Use, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath
Summary: Syndulla doesn’t even register the hypo-injector when it pierces the pulsing vein of her neck. Not a twitch, not a flicker of an eyelid. Her nerve endings have already been overtaxed by prior electro-interrogation methods, and this most minor of new pains is nothing compared to what she has already endured.The drug in question is a pheroserum chemoadjusted specifically to react with Twi’lek physiology, and it has been combined with a mild hallucinogenic. Grand Admiral Thrawn, veteran of the Ryloth Uprisings, swears by its efficacy, but Arihnda herself has yet to see the pheroserum in action herself.
Relationships: Arihnda Pryce/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	Your Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenocuriosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenocuriosa/gifts).



The rebel has been remarkably resistant to interrogation thus far, and Arihnda can almost admire her for that. But perhaps, she thinks, it is time to change tactics.

These tactics do require the utmost privacy, however. Arihnda dismisses her personal guard and instructs them to secure the door. “I am not to be disturbed,” she says. The stormtroopers salute and obey her commands without question. They know better than to defy Lothal’s governor.

Syndulla doesn’t even register the hypo-injector when it pierces the pulsing vein of her neck. Not a twitch, not a flicker of an eyelid. Her nerve endings have already been overtaxed by prior electro-interrogation methods, and this most minor of new pains is nothing compared to what she has already endured.

The drug in question is a pheroserum chemoadjusted specifically to react with Twi’lek physiology, and it has been combined with a mild hallucinogenic. Grand Admiral Thrawn, veteran of the Ryloth Uprisings, swears by its efficacy, but Arihnda herself has yet to see the pheroserum in action herself. Given the circumstances, this seemed the perfect opportunity. Now there is nothing for Arihnda to do but wait patiently while the drug takes effect.

She notices the change in Syndulla’s breathing first. Slow and shallow whilst unconscious, under the influence of the pheroserum, it begins to deepen and to quicken. Her facial muscles are next, lips tightening and twisting, nose crinkling like a child who has been fed something distasteful. Finally, those big green eyes open. They are hazy and unfocused.

‘Welcome back to the lands of the living,’ Arihnda says. ‘You gave us quite the scare, my pet.’

‘Where – wha – ?’ Syndulla’s mouth moves slowly, like she is trying to remember how to speak Basic. She tries to sit forward, or perhaps to stand, but of course the interrogation chair restrains her. She looks down at her manacled wrists like they belong to someone else and tries to free herself, to no avail. Confused and on the verge of panic, she looks toward Arihnda for an explanation. ‘Who – ?!’

Arihnda reaches out and strokes Syndulla’s cheek with the back of one hand until the panic recedes. Syndulla seems to respond to the caress; she is practically purring. ‘You had another one of your attacks, my pet, and as you can see, I had to restrain you. I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself!’

‘Hurt…myself…?’ Syndulla echoes thickly.

‘Indeed, my pet. And there wasn’t very much I could do, since – silly thing! – you left your medicine at home!’ Arihnda allows her fingers to drift towards one of Syndulla’s lekku, tracing the grey and green patterned flesh of the appendage with the blunt tips of her nails.

Syndulla gasps and shudders in response to that teasing touch, and the shudder flows through her lekku from base to tip like the movement of a sine wave. Ah, so the sensitivity of a Twi’lek’s lekku isn’t just a myth! Arihnda applies more pressure to the lek, scratching now, almost hard enough to draw blood, and eliciting a pleasing moan from Syndulla.

Further emboldened, she began to stroke and squeeze the lek, eliciting even more moans and gasping breaths. She moves her other hand to the second, heretofore neglected lek and proceeds to give both equal tactile attention. ‘How’s that feel, my pet?’ she asks.

As if the answer to the question weren’t already obvious. The effect of Arihnda’s hands on both lekku is most extraordinary – Syndulla flails and writhes and strains furiously against her restraints. And when, naturally, they continue to hold fast, she begins to plead.

‘Please…I-I…I need…!’

‘What do you need, my pet?’

Syndulla’s spine arches, and her hips buck. Her lekku are undulating so strongly it’s actually difficult to continue holding onto them. As a matter of fact, the muscular contractions are starting to make Arihnda’s wrists ache. With an exaggerated sigh and a resigned shrug, she lets go.

‘N-no – !” Syndulla cries.

‘If I’m honest, I’m not sure we should continue until after you’ve had your medicine,’ Arihnda says, her tone of voice regretful. She shakes her head and steps further back from Syndulla. ‘If you were to tell me where to find it, though, perhaps I could send for someone to retrieve it and we might then continue…’

‘No! No, please… _please_ – !’ Syndulla is begging outright now, too mindless (or still too mindful?) to give Arihnda what she is really asking her for. Tears trickle like liquid crystal from the corners of her eyes, and her mouth hangs open like a beast’s, like she can think of nothing beyond her own animal desperation for release. It’s probably true. Grand Admiral Thrawn hadn’t lied when he said the pheroserum’s effects were powerful. But are the effects _useful_?

‘Oh, very well. I suppose a little more won’t hurt, will it, my pet?’ Arihnda concedes. She is willing to explore its usefulness thoroughly. She steps forward once more, and without the slightest hesitation, she yanks Syndulla’s trousers down to her knees.

Most thoroughly indeed.

Syndulla whimpers, but Arihnda ignores her. She is focused instead on the hairless… _thing_ …between Syndulla’s legs, with its glistening, prehensile twin claspers and shallow, rearward-facing aperture. ‘How obscenely alien,’ Arihnda murmurs, her gorge rising as disgust wars with curiosity. She knows male humans who prefer female Twi’leks to women of their own species. ‘What do they see in it, I wonder,’ she says, more to herself to Syndulla.

Time to find out. She pushes her fingers in, palm upward. Her fore- and middle fingers penetrate easily, and she feels the closed mouth of the cervix when she pushes deep. Syndulla whimpers softly at the intrusion, her claspers wrapping around Arihnda’s wrist like living swiftvine bracelets, and whimpers more loudly as Arihnda begins pumping her fingers in and out, the friction of her wrist sliding inside the slick rings of the claspers, thereby pleasing Syndulla as much, if not more, than the actual penetration.

Syndulla is shaking now, and the muscles of her limbs are locked at strange angles. Her lekku quiver and lash, as if they have lives of their own, and Arihnda fingers her harder and faster. Gross but fascinating, not to mention educational, albeit not what she most wishes to learn. Syndulla is close, her inhibitions at their lowest ebb. The location of the rebel base, Arihnda thinks – what if she –

‘I want your secrets. Give up the location of your base, rebel scum!’ she whispers into Syndulla’s pointy ear as she jams her fingers into the tiny mouth of the cervix and pries it wide. Syndulla’s shrieks, and hot fluid explodes out of her, soaking Arihnda’s hand and spraying the seat of her trousers with a shameful pattern of spatter.

Hm. Arihnda must have pushed Syndulla too hard, it seems, for she has fallen into unconsciousness once more. Another unsuccessful interrogation. Alas. Arihnda can’t say she’s particularly sorry, though – not about any of it. ‘Next time, my pet. Next time,’ she says with a cool smirk as she wipes her hand clean on one of Syndulla’s limp lekku.


End file.
